Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. He felt her observance and warmed to it. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. “I’m sorry I told you that, Michelle. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. The mummies were tossed into the collection.
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